“Weapons on the ground, nice and easy.”
“That leaves us at your mercy,” Finn pointed out, but laid his two pistols on the street just the same.
“You came to me, not the other way round. Therefore, we play by my rules,” Santa grumped, nodding to a couple of others who emerged from the slim gap between dump truck and wall. How Santa squeezed through, Finn didn’t know.
They lay down their assorted guns and knives, leaving Finn feeling naked and vulnerable in the hot morning sun. His body hummed with adrenalin as he gave them an easy smile. One wrong move in Al’s direction and he would end them. Her safety meant everything.
“Keep your hands out in front of you. Don’t move. Where have you lot come from?” Santa motioned and his juniors came into play.
Two young white males crept out and gathered up the weapons, placing them in a plastic laundry basket. They kept sneaking looks at Al, but it was more curiosity than covet, for now.
“The coast,” Finn said.
Santa grunted. “We had some people come through last week from the east, sent them on their way. They didn’t give me the warm fuzzies. Know what I’m saying?”
“These are dangerous days,” Finn agreed. “I was a cop. I have my badge and ID in my back pocket if you want to check it out.”
A black-haired junior, the one not holding the laundry basket, stepped forward and slipped the leather wallet from the back of Finn’s jeans. Inspected it with care. “Could be legit, Sam.”
Santa canted his head, grimaced. “Maybe. When did you three arrive in our beautiful area?”
“Just now,” said Finn. “We saw smoke earlier, came to investigate.”
“Sure about that? My scouts have seen some movement just outside of town the last few days. The truth would be best, son.”
Finn shook his head. “Not us. We were almost an hour south this morning. First time we’ve been out here.”
Another grunt from Santa. “Pretty girl you’ve got there.”
“Our girl.” Daniel stared the fat, round, not so jolly fel ow dead in the eye.
“Known each other long?” Santa enquired.
“Long enough,” said Finn.
“That so, sweetheart?” Santa’s beady blues narrowed on Al. “You with them by choice or should I send these two assholes on their way? Don’t be afraid. You can answer me honestly. Those bruises on your face are a concern. No one here will hurt you.”
Al’s chin rose as she gave Santa a faint smile. “I go where they go, by choice. But thank you for asking.”
The old man nodded, as if he had expected the answer. “Which one is your man?”
There was a beat before she answered, a long, slow one, stopping his heart. Finn waited for her to deny him. Fully expected it and braced himself for the rejection. They’d slept together once. One night didn’t make a relationship by anyone’s standards. God knows, he’d walked away often enough without looking back.
“Both.” Her tone was firm though her face pinked.
Finn couldn’t hide the look of relief.
“Busy girl. That should raise a few eyebrows.” Santa barked out a laugh, the sort only lifetime smokers were capable of. His belly shook beneath the stretch of his shirt. “Good. Women are scarce, local boys wouldn’t like the competition.”
The man pursed his lips and lowered his gun. “Let’s talk inside. I wanna get the hell outta the sun. I’m Sam Cotter, that’s Andy. The one with the basket’s Owen.”
Al made introductions as Santa waddled away, acknowledging one and all with a wave of the back of his chubby hand.
The skeleton-thin kid decked out in all black, Andy, handed the badge back to Finn. Owen gave a wary nod and gave back nothing.
“So, what use are you people to us?” Santa enquired. He proceeded to push himself through the gap between dump truck and wall, testing the laws of physics and muttering all the way.
“Ali worked in an office, and as Finn said, he was a cop. I was a mechanic,” Dan said.
Finn concentrated on details. The weapons being carried, the vehicles being used and the good organization of these people. Pretty much everything he saw impressed.
“I’m liking you more already. Of course, I would have outright loved you if you’d been a doctor, but a mechanic I can use,” Sam said.
“You’re in charge?” asked Finn.
“There’s a board, a council of sorts. I’m mayor for the time being.”
Dan smiled, rubbed at his chin. “And how are things going, Mr. Mayor?”
“We’re getting there,” Sam hedged. “It’s not going to be easy, lot of work to go around.”
Inside the wall was a graceful old country town in the grip of fierce change. Half of Main Street was being ripped up by a bulldozer.
A flock of children watched the machinery in awe from beneath the shade of one of the grand old jacarandas occupying the median strip. Many of the trees stretched up to two stories high, their boughs covered in clumps of smal purple flowers. The sweet scent fil ed the air.
“We’ll use the space cleared for planting wheat and corn. People are growing the basics in their yards but some things we need to make certain of.” Santa waved to a couple chatting out in front of a petrol station. They eyed their group curiously. “We’re making daily supply runs to the outlying areas, gathering up anything useful. You three’l be expected to pull your weight one way or another, same as everyone else.”
The fat guy never slowed, hustling them down Main Street as people emerged from every nook and cranny to gawk at the
newcomers. On the whole they looked clean and well-fed. “All the domestic residences are at capacity, the motel’s pretty much full as wel . If you lot are staying, then we’l put you up above the real estate agent’s old office. There’s a smal kitchen and bathroom, plenty of room to move in a bed and whatever you need.”
“Sounds fine,” Dan answered.
Finn tagged along behind with Al beside him, her arm brushing against his. Blackstone was perfect. She could be safe here. He smiled and nodded to one and all as they passed. These were ordinary people inside the walls, ordinary people in extraordinary circumstances.
It was everything he had been hoping for. A way to start over with his woman beside him.
On the other side of the street, beyond the noise and commotion of the bulldozer, was an old motel. There was an antique shop beside it, then a big hardware store stretching back the width of the block. The interior of the building was packed to the rafters.
“You’re stockpiling like you’re preparing for a siege,” Finn said.
Santa rounded on him, face grim. “You never know, Finn. You never do know. There’s been infected gathering along the fence line at nighttime. Pays to be prepared for anything. Now, why don’t we discuss the checking you over physical y requirement? Wouldn’t do for anyone to be hiding a bite, would it?”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Santa had a daughter named Erin. She showed them to their designated lodgings above the real estate office. Ali tagged along behind as Erin and Finn did the getting to know you thing. Already Blackstone gave her a bad feeling. Though that might have just been due to the company she was keeping.
Erin was a pretty, sporty sort, around Finn’s age, with shoulder-length brown hair. Womanly wise, Erin was on the smallish side and didn’t require a bra. This fact was made glaringly obvious by the thin tank top she wore.
And if Erin didn’t get her tea-cup tits out of Finn’s face, then Ali was going to start scratching shit up.
The lust on the girl’s face when Finn had stripped off his shirt for the physical had made Ali want to pull hair. She had never gotten into a catfight in her life, but apparently, there really was a first time for everything.
There was only one smal problem. Finn was flirting back.
She had never seen him so happy. He was lapping up Erin’s tales of daring deeds done on supply runs. How she must pale in comparison, sleeping with a gun under her pillow and fear in her heart.
Bleh.
Ali turned her back on their shenanigans and kept busy checking the place out. The kitchen was a small corner unit consisting of a sink and a two-ring gas stove, the bathroom every bit as elaborate and dating back to the 1960s. Otherwise, the large expanse of what had once been storage space was perfectly vacant, completed by two rickety sets of French doors leading to a veranda overlooking Main Street. It would do them fine. Whoever “them” wound up being.
Santa had taken Dan off to organize a king-sized mattress sufficient for the three of them, which had prompted much guffawing from the old man. Sam was getting great mileage out of the ménage thing.
“Al, Erin’s leaving now,” Finn announced.
What a shame.
“Bye,” she cal ed back over her shoulder, saving her “fuck you very much” for a quieter moment.
“What do you think? This’ll be okay, won’t it?” Finn wandered up behind her and leant an arm on her shoulder like she was part of the non-existent furniture.
Her skin felt paper thin and ready to rip, doubtless already worn at the edges. The scene brought her ex-fiancé to mind, horribly enough. The uncomfortable but haughty glances as he packed his shit and took off with her sister sat front and center in her head.
There’d been enough hurt and betrayal to last a lifetime. She couldn’t do this again. The need to tear Finn a new one boiled beneath the surface. But he didn’t belong to her. There was no commitment made. She had slept with him, end of story. It was just sex.
With Daniel she knew where she stood, that ground was rock solid. But with Finn …
She heard voices drift up the stairwell.
“Finn, get your ass down here and help,” Dan hollered from below. Even his raised voice calmed her down some. Her shoulders sunk back to a more normal level and left her earlobes alone.
“Duty calls.” Finn brushed her cheek with a finger and headed for the stairs, leaving her to wonder if he filed her under the same heading. Duty.